by Chris Poirier

Chapter 4

“Morning, Faolan,” I say as I step into the den. He glances up from some papers on his desk and motions to a chair—our eyes barely meet before he is back to his work. Whatever happened between us last night seems to have been for one night only.

As expected.

I nod to Brennan by the fire as I sit down. He nods in response and salutes me casually, not even a hint of sarcasm. Wow. I guess he really was impressed. I smile, in spite of myself, but quickly suppress it and look away—back to Faolan.

“Cormac said you wanted to see me?” I ask. Any other day, I’d have waited for him to get around to me, but I’m feeling strangely brave, this morning. Or something.

He ignores me for a few moments more, scrawls a note on one of the papers and looks up.

“Sleep okay?” he asks. His apparent sincerity surprises me, almost enough to tell him the truth, but some deeper instinct jumps up to stop me. He wants strength from me. Anything less will piss him off.

“Yeah,” I say and nod. He watches me closely for a few moments, but I remain impassive. Like I kill people five times a day, and whenever I’m hungry.